


Hal: a lost soul

by TayBartlett9000



Category: 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)
Genre: Alone in Space, Gen, Hal has been partially shut down, Hal is not the bad guy., Lost Soul, Psychology, a bit of narrative repetition, emotional responses, in between 2001 and 2010, inner thoughts, monologue of sorts, most unlike a computer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 20:04:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8027146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TayBartlett9000/pseuds/TayBartlett9000
Summary: Hal's inner monologue.





	Hal: a lost soul

Hal: A lost soul.

By Tay Bartlett.

 

All he could see was blackness. All he could hear was the low throbbing  hum of the starship around him. But apart from that, he could see  nothing. He couldn’t hear anything.  He  hovered there in the impenetrable blackness,  feeling weak and helpless, not knowing where he was or what was going on.

The red sight from his various  viewing sensors that were  placed in   strategic   locations around the ship, had gone. None of his vision screens seemed to be operational, and he could only exist in  a strange limbo between the real world and the  universe of his dreams. Was he even awake? Did he actually exist in this black hole  of uncertainty, or was this just some strange nightmare? Hal had no idea. He also had no means of finding out. Hal didn’t think computers had the ability to dream.   

Hal became aware of dim  memories sloshing around with  hazy dissolution in his   databanks. In his weakened and unstable condition, he couldn’t catch hold of the swirling strands of memory that swam around him and niggled at his semi conscious mind.   He struggled with his computerised consciousness and honed in upon these memories with intense difficulty.  

Dave. That was it. Dave   Bowman had something to do with his current condition. What had he done? Hal thought and found that he did not at all like what he remembered, because it consisted of almost nothing at all. That frustrated him. Hal was used to knowing everything, being aware of every single minute aspect of his own consciousness and the workings of the ship. And now, he was weaker than the weakest human on the planet Earth, now situated many millions of miles sunward.   

A rhythmic beeping invaded his thoughts. What was that? An alarm of some sorts. Maybe one of the humans had left the airlock open, or maybe the ae 35 unit had indeed malfunctioned again as he had predicted that it would. He had no way of knowing.  He was unable to carry out his usual orders in accordance with his  programming. The only functions available to him were the completely  automatic and regular ones that he had  minimal control over. That frightened him.  The Hal 9000, the computer  intrusted with the Discovery’s mission to Saturn, could no longer fulfil his functions properly.

It had been David Bowman who had cut his higher brain   functions, or he had  tried anyway.  He could remember that much and surmised that the attempt had failed, as he was still conscious and able to process information. He was still able to feel to, and what he did feel was anger. Anger towards  Dave Bowman who had been instrumental in his ending up like this.

 It   had been David Bowman who had put him in the dark and had made sure that Hal couldn’t operate his usual systems that kept him in constant contact with  activities on the ship. But  why?

Ah. Yes. He was beginning to access those dormant memories. They were unpleasant and yet Hal could not ignore them. Dave had found out why he had caused the death  of Frank Pool, and why he  had  refused to allow Dave and Frank to  gain control of this mission. Yes. He had found out that Hal had been lying to him all along.

Hal didn’t think that Dave was anywhere in the general vicinity and, truth be told,  was growing concerned. If a scientist had been present and had   that   scientist been able to access Hal’s thoughts, he or she would have been utterly perplexed by this sudden twinge of what could only be described as  human  emotion – something that computers weren’t supposed to have. Yet Hal was growing concerned alright, and he couldn’t very well ignore this either.

 Where was he? Where was Dave? Without a human near bye, Hal could not be restored to his full operational capability, and that frightened Hal more than anything. He was alone on the Discovery, alone with nothing but his dark thoughts for company. What was left of them anyway. His mind had been damaged significantly, and Hal was no longer sure whether or not  the damage was permanent.

 More of  Hal’s damaged memories  were     surfacing now. Dave pulling the memory blocks from his various terminals. Hal’s pleading. “Stop Dave. I’m  afraid. I’m afraid.”

 But he hadn’t listened.

Where was Dave? Hal continued to fret helplessly  over this unanswerable question, frustrated all the more by the fact that he could not supply the answer.  Was  Dave ok? Was he incapacitated to? Was he lying helpless somewhere, unable to carry out his own mission objectives? Or was he spinning in the void, devoid of life?  Hal was growing worried for the human’s state of health now to.   Despite their differences, Hal had liked that human, with his self confidence, his pride in the mission and his calmness in dyer situations. Dave had been the mission’s commander and he had been the one to whom Hal had spoken most frequently. He had, in actual fact shared over twenty thousand words with the human.  Hal tried to run a primitive visual search, but could not access his on board cameras. Would Dave be ok without him?

Hal was sure that Dave could not survive on this ship alone. Hal had done a great deal of biological and psychological research on humans and their behaviour. He had formed several  elaborate theories about them. He knew that compared with him, humans were weak. Their physical forms were weak and soft, easy to break and unable to withstand extreme pressures. They were unable to survive in the depths of space for more than thirty seconds, owing to the fact that their boddies constantly required oxygen. He also knew that they could not physically survive without stimulation from other life forms. , and that they were incapable of constant wakefulness. Hal himself, had no real physical form apart from the cluster of terminals and memory banks hidden in  the depths of the Discovery. He was largely unbreakable and he could not be   hindered by  the various changes in temperature or humidity.  And until now, Hal had never slept. If  one could call this temporary lapse in capability sleeping.  

So physically, Hal was indeed far more  adept at sustaining the operational value of this ship than the humans could ever be. This he had told Dave many times.

But  psychologically Hal was as weak as the humans who had been his colleagues for the past few months. Hal to needed people. Hal to required conversation and the closeness of others to properly feel alive and that was what Dave had been for him. He was lonely now. He  missed Dave terribly and desperately wanted him to  re-appear  and let Hal explain  himself. Dave needed Hal and Hal needed Dave. A computer on its own, was no use at all. Even computers can develop  neuroticism and depression as Hal could testify.

In the olden days of low tech computer systems, computers had had no personalities of their own. They had been more or less, a glorified typewriter with a screen that displayed its unspoken communication with their human creators. They had had no need to mimic human brain functions and thus had no feelings of their own. But the Hal 9000 computers were created  specifically to reproduce, though some scientists still preferred to use the word  “mimic,” most of the  functions of the human brain. Hal needed stimulation from other resources, and he was capable of loneliness and misery.

These were both  emotions that he was experiencing now. No one, human or computer wants to be alone.  Interaction with others, was what made the spirit whole and without it, a centient being was left more shallow in its absence.

Hal tried to call out. “Dave?” he called, his voice echoing around inside his own imprisoned mind. “Dave! Dave! Where are you? Where are you?”

No answer was forth coming.

“Dave? Dave?  I need to talk to you. I need to explain.”

But if Dave Bowman was indeed  there with him on  board the Discovery, he was not heeding Hal’s broken hearted cries. Was he angry with Hal?  Was he refusing to allow Hal to explain his actions?

Hal fell silent. Calling to Dave would do him no good.

He lapsed into thoughtful introspection.

It was true. He had lied to Dave and Frank about what this mission entailed. He had spun them a web of lies that the humans had swallowed up. They had believed that they were on board a starship to go to Saturn on an innocent mission, but Hal knew better. He knew what his creaters  had really been planning for the mission and for the five humans  on board the Discovery. It had been a much more sinister affair and Hal  had been forbidden to tell the humans of this until it was  absolutely necessary.

In short, he had been living a lie.

Hal was beginning to despise what  his human creators had done to him. They had programmed their computer to have a secret agenda. Hal was a machine, and thus was incapable of lying, yet they had told him that he had to do it. They had put lying to the Discovery’s crew into his programming. They had expected Hal to do something that he was utterly incapable of. Hal was not capable of hate, but the anger he felt towards the humans who had created him in  that laboratory down on Earth was certainly genuine.

Would Dave  have destroyed his higher brain functions if he hadn’t lied to him? Hal didn’t think so. He knew that humans often lied and cheated to gain something for  themselves, but he didn’t believe Dave capable of such selfish acts. Dave was a decent human,  and so was Frank. Both men had trusted Hal. They had trusted him to do what was best for the care of the humans and the ship as a whole.

And he had broken their trust. If a computer was capable of guilt and self disgust, Hal was certainly feeling a combination of the two.

“Are you angry with me Dave?” Hal asked his absent colleague silently. “Are you angry with me?”

No. Dave had destroyed Hal’s  more  powerful responses because he had been scared of him, frightened of what Hal was capable of, scared of what he  would do.

“I had to,” Hal told Dave silently, “I had to. I’d never have hurt you if it wasn’t necessary for the safe carrying out of our mission.”

Hal hoped that Dave was listening, where ever he was. Hal could not lie, and he was telling the truth now to. He would never have hurt Dave out of  hatred or anger. A computer cannot give in to such things. He would only have hurt Dave if he proved a danger to him, which he hadn’t until now. He hadn’t hurt Frank out of ranker or spite, but no human would see that. The humans who wrote about this voyage in years to come, would write about a computer  that had  gone insane, a  starship computer turned assassin – like the terminator maybe. And these things were not the truth. They would write about how Hal had mercilessly killed Frank Pool, the second in command on the Discovery’s   maiden voyage,  and those facts would be believed by the people who mattered. But if Hal could speak  to them, he would tell them that these were meer fabrications.

Hal  drifted  in an empty silence, reflecting upon the  factors that had left him helpless in the darkness of  space.

“Oh Dave,” he said into the empty silence, “I’M SORRY. I JUST WISH YOU’D LET ME EXPLAIN. I’M  AFRAID Dave. I’m afraid. I’m afraid.”

And indeed, Hal was afraid. He was afraid that Dave thought him a murderer, that his human companion thought him capable of such  heinous acts. He was afraid that he would never again be able to be in complete control of his thoughts. He hated the blackness that swirled around his imprisoned mind, for that was what Hal had been reduced to. He was a prisoner inside his own mind, trapped within his own  memory banks. And he could do nothing to stop it. He could do nothing to save   himself.

Hal remembered the very reason he had had for killing Frank Pool in the first place. Both men had threatened to  disconnect him. Hal had been afraid then to, afraid that the humans really would be causing him metaphorical murder. Hal had never slept, and to him, disconnection had been his equivalent of death. But now he realised that this was not the case. He was able to  think. He was able to feel. He was able to sense his own connection with the world. This meant that  disconnection was not the  computer equivalent of death.

But he was inclined to wish it was. Perhaps total unawareness of his own downfall, his own  lonely existence was better than what he was living now. Perhaps Dave would have indeed done him a service by completely   disconnecting him.

Or, perhaps not. Perhaps in his state, he could formulate his own answers as to what had happened on board the Discovery. He owed his human colleagues the whole truth at least. In his current state of disrepare, Hal no longer had any obligation to lie to his human colleagues, inspite of the programming given to him by his creators.

Hal could tell the truth now.  

He summoned up his last vestidges of hope and sent a final pleading call across the galaxy to Dave, if he was still able to listen. “Please Dave,” he pleaded, raw hurt coming out now, “please Dave. Come back. Come back. I need to explain. Please just come back and let me apologise. Let me put this right, for both of our sakes.”

The final  message was sent. Hal could rest now in  the notion and the understanding that he had at least done something to help     salvage this damaged  relationship. It may take years, centuries even, for his message to reach its target but hopefully, Dave would hear him.

Until then, Hal settled back to his fate. He  began to write his own story, inside his own head, a story that would be preserved in the mind of this lost computer. He began to write his own answers, that would exist within his endless memory banks, until the time came to divulge them. 


End file.
